


Avoiding the Subject

by Dane_Wilshire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Fingerfucking, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Parseltongue, Top!Harry, bottom!Ron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:16:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1814950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dane_Wilshire/pseuds/Dane_Wilshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry couldn't stop staring at Ron.  He felt a heat in his stomach, heard a roaring in his ears, and his mouth watered.  His heart raced; he wiped his palms on his jeans and the only word he could utter was wet.</p><p>Ron felt a heat in his stomach, heard a roaring in his ears, and his mouth watered.  His heart raced and he wiped his palms on his jeans and the only word he could utter was hot.</p><p>They just can't seem to tell each other...so maybe they need to show it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avoiding the Subject

**Author's Note:**

> Everything in the Potterverse belongs to JK Rowling. No money is being made from this. I only want to play with these guys for a while, and then I’ll give them back in the same condition which I borrowed them.

Harry couldn't stop staring at Ron. He felt a heat in his stomach, heard a roaring in his ears, and his mouth watered. His heart raced; he wiped his palms on his jeans and the only word he could utter was wet. That was the only way to describe Ron at this moment – wet. His hair was slicked back; beads of moisture gathered on the tips of his fringe and then ran down his face is small rivulets. His chest was bare; a light line of russet-copper hair ran down the centre of his chest to fan out just below his navel. Harry quavered as Ron's towel fell to the floor; he gulped loudly before Apparating away. He couldn't feel this way about Ron; he'd lose him forever if he did. He wouldn't risk their friendship. Never.

The unmistakable ‘pop’ that goes along with Apparating startled Ron. He stood naked and wet in the front room of his flat swivelling his head around like a weathervane gone mad. When he realized that Harry had Apparated away, he let out a discordant and exasperated roar. “Damn it! I couldn’t be much more obvious than this!” Ron yelled to the empty room. He then thought, ‘Well, yes – but if naked-and-just-out-of-the-shower caused Harry to do a runner, what would naked-and-wanking-on-the-bed do?’ Ron leaned down, picked up his towel, released a frustrated sigh, and then continued to dry himself as he walked back to his bathroom.

He’d been trying for months to clue Harry in on his intentions. Harry was either oblivious or not interested was Ron’s conclusion. He’d tried the time-honoured traditions: dropping hints, naughty jokes, bringing conversations around to sex; hell he’d even tried taking Harry down to the pub and getting him well and properly soused – with the hope that he could start something up once they got back to either of their flats. None of it worked. He looked in the mirror as he leaned against the basin talking to his reflection, “Maybe this stunt was just a step too far.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Harry stood in the long corridor of his flat, propped with his back against the wall, panting wildly. The image of a wet Ron flashing against the backs of his eyelids…a wet and dripping Ron…a wet and dripping and leanly muscled Ron…a wet and dripping and leanly muscled Ron wearing only a towel. Harry’s mind replayed, in slow motion, the memory of Ron’s abdominal muscles contracting, the knot of the towel slowly releasing…the towel ghosting to the floor. Harry’s eyes had been riveted to the spot about seven inches below Ron’s navel when the towel dropped…so he’d gotten a brief, but clear, look at Ron’s auburn pubes…his long, thick cock…his heavy and impressive balls. Harry let out an anguished squeak that sounded oddly like someone had trodden on a rather large and vociferous mouse.

He pushed himself up and away from the wall. He stood for a moment shaking his head in confusion, feeling guilty for thinking the thoughts he was thinking about his best mate. Harry walked down the long corridor of his flat passing the doorway to the kitchen, after that the second bedroom – which he used as a study – the bathroom, and then he entered his bedroom at the back of the flat where he collapsed on the bed. He desperately wanted to take out his still throbbing dick and have a good toss off. Instead, he toed off his shoes, shrugged off his coat, went back to the kitchen, and made himself a strong cup of tea. After a moment of thought, he fortified the tea with a generous shot of whiskey.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Harry and Ron didn’t speak again for several days. They were each absorbed in their own issues and their own jobs. Harry was busy with Auror business at the Ministry. The defeat of Voldemort – almost two years before – had considerably slowed down the missions for Aurors, but there were still investigations to conduct and criminals to apprehend. Ron was busy with the logistics of coordinating teams and tournaments for the International Association of Quidditch.

On the Wednesday evening following the Towel Incident, Harry was in his kitchen putting away his purchases from the market when he heard a voice from his living room. As he entered the room, he didn’t notice anyone and thought he might have been hearing things, until his eyes settled on the fireplace. He approached the grate, looked in to see Ron’s head, and made a startled noise.

“Oh, umm, hi Ron,” Harry said into the Floo, “sorry, I didn’t hear you. I was in the kitchen.”

“Hi, Harry,” Ron replied. “I was wondering what you have planned for the weekend. Mum sent over some chicken-and-ham pies and an enormous plate of her homemade fudge. I thought maybe you’d like to have dinner Friday night. She sends her regards, by the way – and mentioned she hadn’t heard from you in a while. You might want to at least send her an owl soon; otherwise you’ll likely get a Howler, or she’ll show up at your place with her wooden spoon.” Ron laughed and Harry cringed.

“Yeah. Yeah…dinner would be great. Friday about seven good for you? I’ll send an owl off to The Burrow after I finish putting away the groceries. Thanks for the invitation and the warning. I’ve seen what Molly can do with a wooden spoon, and I’d rather not be on the receiving end of that!” Harry laughed, remembering a particular instance with Molly chasing Ron and the twins around her kitchen.

“Great. I’ll see you Friday night then, Harry. Cheers!” Ron’s face disappeared from the ashes and Harry returned to his kitchen.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Harry stood at his bathroom sink, fresh out of a hot shower a towel wrapped around his waist, carefully watching himself in the mirror. Normally he would magic away his beard stubble, but sometimes still, he liked to use Muggle ways. He carefully shaved and tried to tame his perpetually messy hair. He decided the last was an exercise in futility and ended up using both hands to mess it up even more. It was a good thing for him that messy hair was the current fashion. He followed that with a dash of cologne.

Harry walked to his bedroom to get dressed. He laid a pair of jeans on the bed and looked at them. He still couldn’t believe he’d bought them. He was still convinced that it was mostly due to the cute and charismatic young man in the store; he couldn’t believe he was even considering wearing them to meet Ron. The jeans were meant to ride low on the hips and he did admit that they looked terrific on him. Harry picked out a deep green clingy pullover shirt that a different, yet equally charming, clerk from the same boutique talked him into buying. That man had commented on how the shirt – which he repeatedly referred to as ‘a top’ – almost matched Harry’s eyes, but it was the playful smile that followed the comment that sealed the sale. Harry then chose a pair of low-rise briefs that were a close-enough match to the shirt, and finished the outfit with his favourite sandals.

Dressed and ready to go, Harry stood in his corridor ready to Apparate to Ron’s flat when he had a sudden change of mind. The evening was nice, so he decided to walk to the off-licence for a bottle of wine. He could then find a decent spot from which he could Apparate.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Ron was lucky enough to have had the day off from work and had spent the better part of it cleaning his flat. He’d hit on one more idea to try on Harry before giving up completely. After thoroughly cleaning the place, he set the table, set out several candles, put a bottle of wine in to chill, and then took a long hot bath. After that, he shaved and applied some cologne he’d bought from a cute and charismatic young man in one of the trendy boutiques. He really liked the fresh and slightly spicy smell of the cologne.

Ron then dressed in an old, comfortable, slightly frayed pair of blue jeans. They were one of his favourites and he couldn’t quite bring himself to throw them out just yet – perhaps he would when the small rips in the seat and at the knee got worse. He put those on over a pair of orange boxers and topped it all off with a plain white tee shirt. He thought about changing it briefly, thinking it might be too tight.

On his way to the kitchen, Ron flicked his wand at the candles on the table and those scattered around the living room. He thought about turning on the tele-whatsit but opted for some relaxing music on the Wizard Wireless Network. He busied himself in the kitchen reading the directions his mum sent for heating the chicken-and-ham pie. He muttered the incantation then got the store-bought salad out of the cold cabinet. He looked at the plastic container and shook his head in the negative. He poured the greens into a large glass bowl, which he set on the table. Just as he did that, he heard a soft ‘pop’ and then a knock at the door.

He opened his door and almost gaped at Harry. ‘Gods, he’s even more gorgeous than the last time I saw him,’ thought Ron.

Harry’s voice broke the near-trance that had settled over Ron. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in? Or should I just hand over the bottle and back slowly away from the door?” Harry chuckled and grinned. Ron simply opened the door wider and motioned Harry into the vestibule.

“Harry? You know you could Apparate directly in?” Ron asked as Harry passed in front of him. A slightly sweet, yet masculine, scent tickled at Ron’s nose. ‘Not only does he look gorgeous, he smells delicious,’ Ron thought. He then glanced quickly over his best mate and nearly choked. His thoughts continued, ‘Look at the way that shirt clings to his strong back. And those jeans! They make his arse look like it would fit perfectly into my hands.’

“Well,” Harry stuttered, “I wasn’t sure if you’d be ready or not.” He had a sudden memory of his last visit with visions of a wet and briefly towel-clad Ron. He felt a sudden constriction in the crotch of his jeans from that memory. He lowered the bottle and his hands to cover it. “It sounded like you had dinner and desert already, so I thought I’d bring the wine. Is that okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, that’s…great,” Ron stammered. His big blue eyes had followed Harry’s hands and he caught a fleeting glimpse of what looked to be a healthy and growing basket. He quickly looked back up at Harry, noting the small stripe of tummy – and the dark trail of hair – revealed between the low-slung jeans and the short clinging shirt. Ron felt a heat in his stomach, heard a roaring in his ears, and his mouth watered. His heart raced and he wiped his palms on his jeans and the only word he could utter was hot.

“Pardon?” Harry asked his best mate. He had been slipping out of his sandals.

“Oh, sorry. I mean…you should put that in to chill. I’ve got a…” Ron almost slipped and said hard-on, “I’ve got a bottle in already. And I’ve got to heat up the pie.” Ron motioned Harry ahead of him. As he followed Harry to the kitchen, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the way the jeans settled on Harry’s hips – just the way he wanted to settle his hands on those hips. The way the fabric hugged those two tight, amazing mounds of arse muscle – the slight wiggle and sway of arse and hips as Harry walked ahead of him. ‘It’s a damn good thing he’s in front on me,’ Ron thought as he adjusted himself trying desperately to hide his erection.

Ron’s eyes followed Harry as they entered the kitchen and Harry stretched up to place the wine bottle in the cold cabinet. As he did, his shirt rose up a little more and the jeans rode down a little more, exposing a crescent of skin in the back. Ron could see the muscles bunch and just the very top of the crack of Harry’s arse and a hint of elastic waistband.

“Oh, shit,” Ron muttered as he slumped back against the opposite counter.

“What?! What’s wrong?” Harry asked as he turned back around to face Ron. He wore an expression of confusion and concern. The front of his shirt gathered up where it rose. Ron’s eyes were immediately drawn to the line of fine black hairs that tumbled from Harry’s belly button and disappeared into the denim.

“Oh, shit,” Ron muttered again. He swallowed loudly and stood up. “Fuck it. I can’t do this anymore,” he said more clearly. Harry’s expression of confused concern intensified and his brilliant green eyes locked into Ron’s deep blue eyes. Ron took two steps closing the distance between them. “I can’t go on like this anymore Harry. Hate me, loathe me, detest me, if you must — but I’ve got to do this once.” As he said it Ron’s right arm wrapped around to grasp Harry’s arse, the fingers of his left hand twined through Harry’s soft black hair, and his lips meshed against Harry’s which had opened from shock.

Harry just stood there for a moment in surprise, his arms hanging dumbly by his sides. Ron’s lips were taunting, and his tongue easily explored Harry’s still-open mouth. Ron’s fingers in his hair were raising goose-pimples all over Harry’s body making his head tilt back even further – Ron’s hand was flexing and kneading the left cheek of his arse causing the muscle to tense even more and push his hips forward…Ron’s erection…. Ron’s erection?! Ron’s…erection!

Harry brought his hands up to Ron’s shoulders and gently pushed him away but held him in place. “Ron?” Harry asked as their eyes locked on each other once again. “Ron? What did you mean by ‘I can’t go on like this’?”

“Harry, I…I kinda thought that kiss would have explained some of it. I’m mad about you Harry…have been. And you just look so…so beautiful tonight. If you want to go…I’ll…I’ll understand.” Ron’s eyes took on a sad quality as he searched Harry’s face for some indication of what would follow.

“Oh, bloody hell…” Harry muttered.

“Hey, that’s my line,” Ron said hoping that humour would help at the moment.

“Ron, you great pillock,” Harry said. He dropped his hands from Ron’s shoulders. His left hand reached out to grab Ron’s right hand and Harry raced off to Ron’s bedroom - a dazed Ron being towed behind.

When they reached the bedroom, Harry flung Ron on the bed then leapt on him. Their lips met again for a fierce kiss. Their hands were all over the place, feeling each other, and pulling at pieces of clothing. Harry sat up and reached for the button of Ron’s jeans. “Gotta take these off.”

Their eyes linked again and they both nodded in unison as they began to undress themselves quickly. Clothes were flung in all directions until the two were only in their underwear. Ron gasped out loud, “Gods, you are so hot Harry!” Harry’s erection was straining his briefs and a sizable damp spot was evident.

Harry’s glasses had flown off during the hasty disrobing, but he didn’t need them to see the imposing tent in Ron’s orange boxers. Harry’s hands grabbed the waistband, which he pulled down and tucked under Ron’s ballsac. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Harry said just before he peeled back Ron’s foreskin and swallowed his best mate’s cock nearly halfway down. As his head started bobbing, he pulled the underwear off and let his hands explore a fully naked Ron. His hands caressed Ron’s quaking thighs, massaged across Ron’s quivering abdomen, kneaded Ron’s firm pectorals, and pinched Ron’s sensitive nipples.

Ron let out a loud groan of pleasure as Harry’s hands roamed over his sweaty skin – and even more of his pole disappeared down Harry’s throat. Though he was enjoying the sight of it, he needed something more at that moment. “Harry, turn around here,” he ordered. Without letting up, Harry spun around on top of Ron. Ron yanked off the briefs and engulfed Harry. He had to open his mouth quite wide to get around Harry’s thick member. The two young men sucked and teased at each other with their lips and tongues, mouths and throats. Their avid ministrations were fast bringing them too close to the edge, and they each stopped. Ron rolled Harry off him and onto his side. “I don’t want this to be over that soon.”

“Me either,” Harry panted in reply. They smiled at each other then leaned in for a deep, long, intense make-out session. Their kisses were alternately ardent and affectionate, greedy and gentle. The young men luxuriated in the feeling of exploration, hands stroking the planes, angles, and curves of previously forbidden bodies – the body of his best friend. A nibble at an ear, a nip at a neck; a whispered plea, a purr of approval. The scent of excited maleness wafted through their thoughts. Their glassy dilated eyes promised much, yet pleaded for even more.

“I want you to f–,” they said in unison.

Ron was one thought ahead though, and promptly rose up his hands and knees. That was an invitation Harry wasn’t about to turn down. He placed a hand on each of Ron’s checks spreading them wide to reveal a fine line of auburn hair and a twitching opening. Harry dove in, kissing and licking his best mate’s most private spot. The sigh/moan that escaped Ron’s mouth only heightened Harry’s lust and his actions – he pointed his tongue and wriggled it deeper in.

“Oooh, yesssss…Haaaaaarry. That’s incredible! More…pleeeeease,” Ron keened. Always a willing friend, Harry did as his best mate begged. Harry felt Ron’s ring of muscle slacken around his tongue, just as the muscles in Ron’s arse and legs began to quiver. The unintelligible vocalisations, panting, and moaning rumbling from Ron’s chest spurred Harry to add rough lip manoeuvres and gentle grazes with his teeth.

Harry could feel that Ron had relaxed, but knew there was still more to do – and he wanted to watch as he did it. Harry sat back on his haunches and eased a finger into Ron’s arse; Ron’s arms gave out and he collapsed onto his chest. As Harry slowly added another finger, he was surprised that the panting and moaning was now coming from his own mouth. The feeling of his fingers in Ron’s arse was something he never thought he’d know in real life; the tight, hot muscles of Ron’s arse rippled in reply. Harry was awed that the debauched sight escalated his excitement; he momentarily wondered how many fingers he fit into his best friend’s bung.

“More, Harry,” Ron pleaded, turning his head to try to see his lover, “more. I need this…I need you…inside me. Fuck me, Harry. Make me yours!”

Harry muttered a familiar spell and rose up on his knees behind his best mate…his boyfriend. Harry gingerly eased himself inside pausing every few moments as he heard Ron alternate between groans and gasps. When he felt the sweat-moistened skin of Ron’s arse make contact with his own hips, Harry wrapped his arms around Ron’s chest and pulled him up into a sitting position; the last fractions of his cock settling deep inside.

Ron’s head fell back onto Harry’s shoulder as he let out a growl followed by a hissing, “Yesssss. Ooooh. Oh, Harry…move…now!” Harry was more than happy to oblige and started rocking into and out of Ron’s pulsing hole. Ron’s hands reached behind him and latched onto Harry’s thrusting buttocks. Harry turned Ron’s face to the side so they could kiss just as deeply. Harry’s hugging hold on Ron tightened as his lunges increased in speed and force. As their bodies moved and tongues duelled, they shared a strangled grunt.

Ron twisted out of Harry’s grasp, lunged forward, and grasped the headboard. “Hard…Harry,” Ron demanded, his voice ragged and raw. “Fuck me hard with that thick cock!”

Something slipped in Harry’s brain and animal instinct overwhelmed him. He tightened his grip on Ron’s sultry hips and pounded into the lanky redhead, driving deep and assaulting Ron’s prostate on every third or fifth attack. Time melted away as they relentlessly propelled and pulled each other toward the precipice of pleasure — and then, as if by agreement, retreated for yet another charge. Ron’s orgasm was sudden and powerful, enough so that he sprayed the headboard with multiple shots.

Ron’s muscle constrictions pulled Harry headlong into his own orgasm. Harry felt a heat in his stomach, heard a roaring in his ears, and his mouth was dry. Harry’s heart raced as he came deep inside his studly redheaded boyfriend.

Though strained from their exertions and the intensity of their emotions, they were reluctant to move and break the moment. After a few minutes Harry panted into Ron’s ear, “Ron…that…that was amazing, but honey…I can’t hold myself up right now.” They collapsed away but soon gathered the other back up into a firm hug.

Ron sighed, “You called me honey. But what was that before? It was very hot!”

“What before?”

“You were speaking in Parseltongue. It was damn sexy.” Ron paused before saying with a grin, “Just give me about ten minutes, and I’ll gladly repay you. But, it will take me longer to finish the second round.”

Harry grinned back at Ron, “I was kinda counting on that.”


End file.
